The last few days (or was it weeks? He hadn't bothered distinguishing one day from the next.) seemed to go by in a flurry of new sights, textures, and plenty of delectable sounds. The number of things that still remained to be examined by a curious touch, or heard by a wobbly ear firmly pressed against it, seemed limitless. And so, his wanderlust was in full force.
With all the running around, he only barely made enough time to eat. And sleep? Well, sleep happened when he was just conscious enough to drag himself back to the living quarters; though a nook or cranny in a relatively deserted locale served him just as well. Despite his eagerness to get into anything and everything (even if that sometimes meant trouble), he still couldn't ignore the melancholy look his companion seemed to have about him, lately.
There was no feigned arrogance or annoyance when Fontaine referred to him as 'kid', 'side-kick', or 'elf', nor had the spirit beast made any innuendo-laced comments when referring to anyone and everyone they had met. His jokes seemed half-hearted and he hadn't even complained more than once about the elf's confrontation and following avoidance of Fontaine's so-called 'soul-mate'. It was all thoroughly depressing seeing his comrade in such a state, though he had just the plan that would cheer him up.
That had been more than an hour ago and what had brought him into the sensorium in the first place. Usually he just walked through, observing things the others tended to do, or did inane things, such as enjoying his daily ooze-like meals in new, exciting ways; seafood stew with equal parts Makrura, Whale Shark, and Kraken was surprisingly tasty. This time, though, the gentle hills and thick, twisted forests of Ashenvale surrounded them. Darkness would consume the entirety of the area if it weren't for the large, brilliant campfire in the middle of the clearing where they sat.
A variety of large beasts and creatures sat about; a crab, what appeared to be dinosaurs, spiders, a wasp, foxes and Fontaine. They all appeared to be clacking or screeching in low conversation, though most huddled near the edge of the clearing where a gargantuan wolf stood; his coat was white, tipped with silver streaks and his eyes shone brighter than the campfire did. He seemed to be telling a story about demons, a magical well and a group of 'Ancients' who fought them off long ago.
Nokosi was situated next to the fire, his long arms draped over lanky legs. His body was propped against the huge stump of a tree and a seagull was perched atop his head. As excited as the other creatures were to be in the presence of the great white wolf and hear his words, the elf seemed to only be half-listening. By the way his head was lolling to the side, only to have the seagull peck him in indignation, it was clear he was barely staying awake.